


Pain For Pleasure - Part Six

by lucy_hudson



Series: Pain for Pleasure [6]
Category: Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom, Cumberbitches, Doctor Strange (2016), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Benedict Cumberbatch - Freeform, Benedict Cumberbatch love, Dominant, Dominant Benedict Cumberbatch, F/M, Masochism, Masochist, NYC, Porn, Sadism, Sadist Benedict Cumberbatch, Sex, Smut, Submissive, relationship, sadist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-28 19:11:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21141782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucy_hudson/pseuds/lucy_hudson
Summary: How will you and Ben act the morning after your drunken confessions?





	Pain For Pleasure - Part Six

After the last drink in the bathtub, things got quite fuzzy. You faded in and out, not holding onto your memory of the rest of the night. 

As soon as your eyes fluttered open, panic set in. 

Oh my god. OH MY GOD. OH MY FUCKING GOD, you thought frantically.

Your mind raced with thoughts of the night before. He might be in love with you? You think you’re in love with him? No, No, NO! This cannot be happening! You don’t even know each other! 

Oh god oh god oh god. Panic. PANIC. Terror. 

He was still sleeping beside you. You had to get out of there. You had to run. You were supposed to leave today anyway, so what was the harm? This couldn’t happen. This was absurd. Amazing, yes, but also still absurd. Hadn’t you specifically said you wouldn’t let yourself get caught up in this? Get carried away? Wish for the Pretty Woman ending? Yet there you were...wishing for it. 

You quickly and silently crept around the room, gathering your things and getting dressed. Just as you were almost ready to sneak out the bedroom door, you dropped your keys. You froze and knew immediately you would be caught as he started to stir. Ben reached over to your side of the bed without opening his eyes. Upon only feeling your absence, he sat up in bed and looked at you.

He immediately looked hurt and reminded you of why you were not a sadist. Seeing other people even only possibly in pain shattered you.

“Were you just going to sneak away without saying anything?” He asked after a painful pause.

“I just thought...I thought it might be best…” your voice trailed off.

“Best for who? Me or you? Because I don’t think it would be good for either one of us.”

You defeatedly put your keys on the dresser and sat on the edge of the bed beside him. He reached up and cradled your face in his hand.

“I guess I got scared. I don’t even know you, Ben,” you confessed.

“I asked you if you I was going to scare you off, remember?”

'Not a chance, Batch.' The words echoed in your mind. You meant them at the time. 

“I just didn’t expect you to say something so intense so quickly, and I damn sure didn’t expect to hear myself saying it back to you. I’m not like that. I don’t rush into things like this...ever. I don’t know how to process the fact that I said it so easily. I didn’t even have to think about it. It was just like telling someone my name. Just a matter of fact,” you divulged. 

“Well now, that doesn’t sound too terrible to me. We may have been drunk when we said it, but I know I meant it. You just said you meant it. So, what’s wrong? We don’t have to run off and get married. We can still take our time with things. You’re right; we don’t even really know each other. Still, that doesn’t have to stop something from starting, does it?” He looked so sweet and hopeful. Where was the villain now?

“No, it doesn’t,” you smiled at him as he kissed you softly. 

“So take off your clothes and get back into bed with me for a few hours. We don’t have much time left,” he said as he helped you with your coat. 

You undressed as you were told and curled up next to him, running your fingers along his chest and stomach. His skin was so mesmerizing. He smelled so damn good. You missed him already, and the ache in your chest began. You took a deep breath and prepared to ask the question you weren’t sure you wanted an answer to.

“So...what happens now?” You immediately wished you hadn’t asked. You didn’t want to hear how busy he would be, how he might only be able to text or Facetime you, how long it would be until you might see him again. The unavoidable separation to come was already ripping your heart in two. 

“I suppose you go back home, and I go back to London,” he sighed. 

You fought back tears. You didn’t want to seem overly attached or emotional, but this wasn’t going to be easy. Those were the words you didn’t want to hear, but that was reality. 

“I suppose so. What time are we checking out?” You noted yourself saying “we.” That was unusual for you. 

“Checkout is at 11,” he said as he pulled you a little closer. It was already almost 9. 

You decided not to ask any more questions. It would be better to just let things unfold instead of trying to extricate every possible answer right this minute. The two of you laid in bed for an hour in silence, both dreading your inevitable separation. 

You eventually got up, dressed, and collected your things as he did the same. It would be best if you left before he did so as not to alert the media, so you had your coat on and your bag in hand by 10:15. Ben embraced you one last time, and you almost didn’t let go.

“I’ll call you,” he promised as he broke the embrace and kissed you on the cheek.

You gave a half-smile and nodded silently, turning to open the door and step out into the hall. As you stepped into the elevator and the doors closed, it started to sink in. The weight in your chest got heavier. It reminded you of when you left a year ago. Was it worse then or now? It was hard to tell. You wanted to hope that he would actually call you, but honestly, you were still skeptical. 

As you rode the elevator down to the lobby, it dawned on you all over again that he was a sadist. This could’ve been an act -- just another way to hurt you. What better way was there to make sure you were just as hurt inwardly as you were outwardly? God knows the invisible wounds take so much longer to heal than the visible ones. You walked onto the street, hailed a cab, and headed home. Your apartment looked so different to you now, although everything was exactly the same. His absence was amplified here. You sat on your bed in the silence, praying that he hadn’t been lying. Only time would tell.


End file.
